


phylum: arthropoda, class: arachnida

by Heavenward (PreludeInZ)



Series: Thunderbirds Prompts [25]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Melancholy, Spiders, Underside of Dad's desk, actually given the part of the world they live in, probably should clear those spiders out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:06:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludeInZ/pseuds/Heavenward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Virgil, and the cobwebs on the underside of Dad's desk.</p><p>Prompt:</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Virgil.. and.... Sipders!. alot of them</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	phylum: arthropoda, class: arachnida

It's funny, you see the cobwebs, but you don't think about the spiders who made them. The Villa on the whole always seems too clean for spiders, for cobwebby forgotten places, but Virgil's managed to find one anyway. They all find excuses to hang around Dad's desk. Scott pretends to look for pens, when it's an important test or a big exam, Alan studies sitting in Dad's chair. Gordon hides from whatever's worth hiding from, hunches himself behind the chair and avoids the rest of the world. John leafs through the drawers, reads old documents. There's a letter from their mother. They all know about it, John's the only one who's read it.

Virgil, in the rare, quiet moments when the rest of the family doesn't need him for something, just lies down beneath the sleek old desk and stares up at the underside. Sometimes, not often. He's not hiding, not like Gordon does. His boots stick out the end, everyone knows he's there.

And this time he finds him staring up at a little haze of cobwebbing in the corner. And at the cluster of tiny spiders. On impulse he reaches up and taps the underside of the desk. The little orb roils and shudders in a multiplicity of panicky arachnids, but none of them go anywhere. They cling to each other, brothers and sisters all, themselves the only thing they have in the world.

Virgil watches them for a long time before he gets up, and even after, he wonders where they'll all go, and how many other families of spiders there are on the Island, how many tiny generations have passed, since his Dad last sat at his desk.


End file.
